


Finders, Keepers

by skylar



Category: Avengers (Comic), Captain America (Comics), Iron Man (Comic)
Genre: Character Death, Dark, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-06
Updated: 2012-08-06
Packaged: 2017-11-11 13:42:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/479149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skylar/pseuds/skylar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an alt!Tony shows up, Steve allows himself taken to Tony's hideout.  They both try to work out some issues from Civil War (or not).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finders, Keepers

**Author's Note:**

> This thing has been on my computer for a while. I wrote it in response to a kink prompt at first and then decided to rewrite it my way since I didn't have any good experience with writing what other people liked.
> 
> That's all the excuse I'm giving.
> 
> Read the header carefully before continuing at your own risk.

"Why do you stay here? Why don't you try to escape?" Tony asks, toying with the leash attached to Steve’s collar, a faux leather band that probably doesn’t take more than a simple yank to break. Steve’s hands are currently tied behind his back with some kind of rope also too flimsy for his superhuman strength.

"Because I don’t want to." Steve shakes his head slowly while not taking his eyes off Tony’s form. His knees haven’t protested from the kneeling position on the floor yet and he’s trying to assert this Tony’s purposes. "If you want to keep me around, I’m more than willing."

“No. That’s not how you do it.” Tony sounds angry, his hands fluttering in the air to emphasize his words in the same way Steve’s Tony used to do, which hurts because Steve misses him so damn much.

“You’re supposed to concoct up some plan to escape when I was away. Or break the restraints free, hit me and knock me out when I’m careless enough to turn my back. You’re supposed to leave New York and head for Russia, Japan, Afghanistan—anywhere to hide from me. And me? I’ll be furious when I can’t find you at first until I realize that I can make you come to me willingly. And you will, won’t you? Give yourself up to me before I kill everyone you love. One by one.” Tony grits the last three words out in distaste and balls up his fists.

Steve frowns, unable to comprehend how Tony is capable of such action under any circumstance. His Tony has betrayed them all, hunted his own kind down, and imprisoned them in the Negative Zone because they didn’t support the Superhero Registration Act. However, purposeful murder in cold blood is beyond Tony. Any Tony as Steve is inclined to believe.

“You’re bluffing. You wouldn’t do that.”

Tony laughs, crouches down in front of Steve and loops his hand around the leash so that Steve has no choice but to lean over until they’re face to face. “Would I? Would you? Would anyone be capable of that kind of cruelty? That was what I believed too until…”

Steve sees a quick flash of pain in Tony’s eyes before Tony drops the string, vaults to a stand and starts walking across the room while favoring his right leg. His back is turned to Steve just like he’s said and it would be so easy to spring to his feet and slam him into the opposite wall. One upon a time, that was what Steve would do but not anymore and so he watches silently.

With every ten steps instead of seven due to his limp, Tony crosses the empty space of the room, spins on his heels with a hand on his hip, and resumes his steps until he reaches the other side. It appears to hurt Tony to walk but he does it with the zeal of a man habitual to pacing which is not something Steve remembers his Tony shares. Other than that small defect, Tony looks every part like Steve’s Tony, the impression reinforced further by the workroom’s atmosphere whose true size is a lot larger since most of the space is cluttered by various equipments and workbenches.

The place doesn’t look livable in comparison to the Avengers Tower but his Tony must have stayed here for a while during the secret identity period when Tony Stark and Iron Man were still two separate people according to Steve’s knowledge. Everything here belongs to his Tony, even the Iron Man suit, possibly the only one in existence right now after the last raid. Steve recognizes it fondly as Mark V, the classic armor which has made Tony’s nickname, the golden Avenger.

At the moment, the suit is standing in a charging station, its outer coating slightly damaged as if it hasn’t been subjected to any maintenance for long.  Most of its functionality is intact, the boot jets and palm repulsors at least because Tony has threatened to shoot Steve with them before grabbing Steve and flying straight here. That was more than five hours ago, three of which Tony has left Steve to his own devices.

Steve glances to the left, at the unmade bed and the sight of the forlorn coffee machine on the counter next to a utility sink. Pushed against one side of it is a refrigerator, and adjacent to a crane is a door leading to the bathroom.

This secret hideout saddens Steve and he would destroy it like he did to Tony’s armories had he found it earlier.

Once Steve returns his attention to the Tony from another dimension, he realizes that Tony has been talking to himself. “…entirely improbable. The scanning indicated that every parameter in this reality aligned with my own including the peaceful resolution to Civil War. Then where did the deviations post war originate? What have I missed? Happy—other than Happy, they are all alive.”

Tony stops and glares at Steve vehemently. “And there is you. Why?”

“I don’t understand your question.” Steve arches an eyebrow.

“Let me restate my question. Why are you like this? Why are you so pathetic?”

“I can’t change who I am.”

Not speaking, Tony keeps his gaze on Steve for some good ten seconds before he resumes pacing and mumbling, the tightness of his expression easing out slightly. “Interesting. If what you’re stating is true—and I know you are because Captain America doesn’t lie— this is contrary to my conclusion of you being the variable that resulted in the divergences. Since they are minor and directly related to him, once you are taken out of the equation, the only variable left is… other me. He must have done something in this reality before he escaped to a different reality.”

“Tony didn’t do anything.” Steve is forced to interject and correct the conjecture.

“I didn’t mean it in a negative way. Out of seventy four possible solutions, he picked the correct one. Evidently, he didn’t kill you because you’re still alive—not that he could anyway,” Tony says absently, his eyes unfocused as if he’s switched his verbal rambling to internal thought.

“And he didn’t leave this reality,” Steve says as his chest tightens and his stomach knots up.

“What are you trying to say? I know you’re wrong because I’m quite positive that he did. You may think that he’s hiding somewhere but he doesn’t. My machine—built from scraps or not—can’t be faulty. I’ve done enough scanning to know that the Tony Stark variable is obsolete in this reality.”

“He’s dead, Tony.”

“Ah, that’s it,” Tony exclaims in delight as if he hasn’t just heard about his death but found an answer to some scientific conundrum and starts talking rapidly. “How did he manage to achieve what I couldn’t? Wasn't his Extremis was modified to stop him from harming himself? No, reprogramming Extremis was the first thing being done to him. This suggests his death was resulted by an external factor and the most likely candidate is… you. You killed him,” Tony concludes with a half-smile.

Steve swallows down the lump in his throat. “I didn’t mean to do it.”

“Oh, I’m sure you did. But it was the right thing to do because that was what he wanted. What I wanted. I must say that I am quite jealous of him.”

“No, I didn’t. It was… an accident. New York was burning around us and people were getting hurt while we were fighting. You wouldn’t surrender. Vision disabled your suit and I had only a few minutes before your suit went back online. I only wanted to knock you out but you edged me on. I was so angry and I lost it. There were seven men holding me back but I shook them off just so that I could get to you.”

Grief stricken, Steve casts his eyes down to avoid Tony after his confession.

“Are you telling me that he didn’t survive Civil War not even with Extremis?”

“He couldn’t. I decapitated him.”

Tony lets silence hang between them for a moment, and then starts speaking, his voice so clear as if he’s given it some deep thoughts. “That must have been a quick and painless death. A good ending for him to achieve peace. Considering that the alternative is to live my life, I think he would like to say ‘thank you’ to you. By killing him, you have not only saved the superhero community from being torn apart by the SHRA but eight people close to him. That’s a very cheap price in exchange.”

“No, it’s not worth it.” Steve glances up to catch Tony’s profile since Tony has turned away to avoid eye contact.

“Yes, it is, Cap. It is. Do you know that if he was still alive, he would kill them all just like I did?” Tony breathes harshly and lets out a pained sound as he leans on his right leg. He digs the heels of his hands into his eyes, and once he drops them, Steve realizes that Tony’s weariness may not be entirely attributed to dimensional travel. “Eight lives, Cap—Jarvis, Pepper, Rhodey, Sal, Maya, Beth, Henry, and Mrs. Arbogast.”

Steve only recognizes half of the listed names. They are the people his Tony considered friends, some of whom used to make Steve quite jealous due to the fondness Tony expressed when referring to them.

“If you were anything like my Tony, you wouldn’t do it,” Steve insists.

Still not looking at Steve’s direction at all, Tony sighs heavily. “I almost believed you if you haven’t—No, you are not the type who tells me that I’m responsible for their deaths. You didn’t even blame me for Goliath. Hah, I didn’t directly pull the trigger but who cares about the semantics? More importantly, they died because of me. Jarvis and Rhodey lost their lives to help me escape. Henry died for hiding me. Sal was executed to teach me a lesson. As for Maya, Beth, Pepper and Mrs. Arbogast, all they did was to know me.” Tony’s laugh is cold and bitter, his fist slamming hard into the wall on his side at the end of the sentence.

“Who killed them? Why did they do it?”

All the horrible things that Tony has said is a mere glimpse into Tony’s life which explains the reason why Tony is the way he is—angry, brittle and underlying everything, sad.

“Why don’t you tell me?” Tony snaps but his outburst ebbs almost immediately. “I’ve been asking myself the same question. He—No, he didn’t do it! I did. Everything was my fault. If I hadn’t attempted to run away, at least Jarvis, Rhodey, and Henry would still be alive.”

“Who is he?” Steve restated his question, a second away from standing up and reaching for Tony to shake the answer out of him. His Tony has been a prisoner once in Afghanistan because they wanted Tony to build weapons for them but Tony invented Iron Man to escape. Steve couldn’t imagine how much pain and suffering for Tony to go through that again.

“Does the name matter when you don’t know him?” Tony asks rhetorically, limps to Iron Man and touches its armguard in a very bad attempt to deflect Steve’s question.

Steve suspects that he may know Tony’s captor and there are things that Tony is not telling but to push Tony at the moment is not a wise choice since Tony is more likely to lie or shut down when being confronted. Instead, Steve chooses to a different topic to ask.

“What happened to your leg? Why didn’t Extremis heal you? Have you lost it?”

Tony’s shoulder shifts in a nonchalant shrug. “You’ve seen the scans of my body, Cap. I took a dose of Extremis and it changed my physiology. My brain is both a hard drive and a processor and my lungs have wires. I’m probably more machine than human now. Losing Extremis? Hah, not possible but I can still get viruses. And that was what happened. He broke my leg first and then download a program into my brain to force Extremis to save the current state as default.”

The method is not unfamiliar. Steve himself has used it a few times before. The kneecap is weak, not life-threatening and easily blown off to prevent the enemies from getting away. It’s not supposed to be cruel or permanent.

“How did they hack your brain? You have firewall installed.”

“I’ve showed it to you, haven’t I? I guess I was careless.”

None of them speaks anymore. Tony has withdrawn into himself as if remembering his bad experience and Steve decides to wait. While his Tony was quite secretive, this Tony talks a lot more and Steve suspects that he will talk regardless of Steve’s presence.

“I came here out of curiosity because my crude machine didn’t have enough computation power to explain the differences between my and your realities. It killed me to think that I couldn’t protect my friends when your Tony could. All he did was to cease existing. I always knew I was disposable but I thought that I still could make a different to those around me. Had I known it sooner…”

“Stop it!” Steve raises his voice in anger. He has intended to let Tony talk but Tony’s mind is going to the wrong place, and if Steve is not doing something, Tony is going to hurt himself.

Tony doesn’t stop. “I was merely speaking the truth. As a self-proclaimed futurist, I was blinded. I could see the big picture but not when it came to the details. I predicted the coming of the SHRA long before it was enacted but I couldn’t see its outcome. And people died because of me.”

The bindings stretch and come apart at a jerk of Steve’s arms. Three long steps and Steve is right behind Tony, enveloping him in a hug of reassurance.

Immediately, Tony’s mouth snaps shut with a clack, his body freezing up in shock at the sudden realization of Steve’s new freedom.

“When did you escape?”

“Stop it, Tony. Stop saying or doing stupid things. I can’t stand seeing you like this!”

Steve can feel Tony swallow in nervousness, and when Tony talks, his voice carries an odd timbre which is neither annoyance nor exasperation. “Let me go, Cap.”

“I miss you so much. Stay with me.”

This time, Tony does push at Steve’s chest, a futile effort to budge Steve from his standing position. “Can’t. I can’t stay with you. I have to leave.”

“To where? I love you, Tony.”

Steve clutches Tony more tightly to his chest and starts kissing Tony’s cheek but Tony elbows him and jerks hard out of Steve’s arms.

“No, you don’t love me. Never say that to me.”

“I think you’re mistaking me for the Steve Rogers of your reality. I’m not him. I don’t care which Tony you are because you’re Tony to me and I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

Tony looks pale. Steve tries to reach for him. For every step Steve takes forward, Tony steps back.

“And I believe that you love me too.”

Tony blinks and glances to one side, not denying it. Using that moment of distraction, Steve captures Tony’s hand and pulls Tony back to him. At the disbelief displayed on Tony’s face, Steve starts stroking Tony’s back and whispers reassuring words to him while steering him toward the bed. As the type who tends to run when being faced with emotions, Tony probably needs Steve’s demonstration to believe him.

Seeming to realize Steve’s intention, Tony tries to brace himself where he stands instead of following Steve’s lead and says in a panic. “Wait. I’m already… involved with someone!”

Steve halts their walk, his stomach churning at the tide of jealousness and possessiveness that blaze through his veins and lace into his voice. “Is that the reason why you want to leave /me/? Then why did you seek me out and take me here in the first place? You weren’t happy with your current relationship. Am I correct?” Steve hazards a guess and gets his confirmation from the display of sadness on Tony’s face.

He’s always been good at reading Tony and finding Tony’s sore spots probably because he’s been more attuned to Tony than anyone else. Of course, this time it isn’t that hard of a guess since if this Tony is anything like Steve’s Tony, he is prone to dating the wrong people. But not anymore.

“You’re mine, Tony. I’m not letting you leave me. I’ll keep you safe. If anyone hurts you…” Steve pauses briefly to suck in a deep breath in an attempt to dissipate the jumble of dark emotions which threaten to consume him.

He can’t.

“If anyone dares to hurt you again, I’ll kill them. I’ll kill them all,” Steve promises with deadly calm into Tony’s ear, their bodies almost touching now.

Tony’s tremble is almost unnoticeable, his breathing short and rapid in little hot puffs. “You can’t possibly…”

“Can’t do what, Tony? Can’t protect you from getting hurt? Or can’t stop you from running away? Do you want to leave? Are you going to leave me? Again?”

Steve hugs him again, his hand resuming the earlier path along Tony’s spine to the swell of his ass. Tony lets out a shudder and his fingers grip bruises into Steve’s forearms. In return, Steve gives Tony a shove with a palm on his chest which causes Tony to wobble on his feet, fall and land on the mattress with a startled gasp.

Dazed, Tony doesn’t react when Steve gets on top of him, carefully supporting himself on his arms so not to crush Tony. The kiss is neither rough nor gentle, just enough pressure on Tony’s lips to get them open and delve inside for a taste.

It lasts for a short moment before Tony bites him.

Surprised, Steve breaks off the kiss, not quite understanding, and looks down at Tony who is squinting at him with an odd glint in his eyes. It reads like a challenge. If they’re not currently in bed together but the rubble of the Avengers Mansion, Steve would think Tony is vying for old fashion fisticuffs. As unsavory as the idea is, Tony isn’t willing to let Steve fuck him without a fight, his aggression too strong to let him stay still and take it from Steve, especially after all the fallout and emotional baggage from Civil War. In so many ways, he’s so much Steve’s Tony—constantly pushing Steve until Steve pushes back.

To confirm his assertion, Steve cups Tony’s groin and finds him already half-hard. Tony only lets Steve grope him for a few seconds before he starts fighting Steve like a wild cat, which is not quite effective and yet arousing, every contact igniting and fueling the frenzied need whirling about inside Steve.

“Hit me back, damn you!” Tony growls and tries to knee Steve after his hands are locked above his head with Steve’s much larger hand.

Steve blocks it with his elbow, pushes Tony’s knee to one side and uses his leg to pin it down. It’s not until Steve plays dirty and goes for Tony’s broken knee that the fight goes out of him and he lies still under Steve, panting for every heavy breath with the rising and falling of his chest.

Steve tilts Tony’s chin up for a bruising kiss, his teeth raking over Tony’s bottom lip and his tongue plundering Tony’s mouth. He tastes like coffee and desperation and Steve can’t get enough of him.

“Do you submit now?” The question is asked into Tony’s mouth and Tony accepts them with his eyes and his body, allowing Steve to yank his pants down and fondle him to full hardness.

Tony doesn’t do helpless moaning. Every sound from him is a surprised noise, involuntarily ripped from from his bitten lips, the muscles of his flat stomach tensing and relaxing exquisitely under Steve’s touches as his arms test Steve’s hold.

Steve never has thought of Tony as beautiful but he is. There is beauty in the disarrayed mess of his hair and the darkening blue of his large eyes. Steve wants nothing more than to take him apart and see him come undone under him.

A rubbing thumb over the tip of Tony’s cock elicits a harsh groan, the rough initial strokes moistened by precome trickling from the head. Steve’s hand quickens and squeezes just a fraction tighter and within minutes, Tony is straining against Steve and crying out Steve’s name as ropes of white come paint his stomach.

In the afterglow, Tony’s eyes stay shut as his breathing gradually calms down. His inky eyelashes flutter when Steve presses a kiss on each of his eyelids and then his wrists where the bruises are starting to show due to Extremis healing ability. Tony doesn’t react when Steve removes his shoes and pants, and repositions his legs so that Steve can sit comfortably in between. The lube is Tony’s own come, not thick or slick enough to lube the path but Steve doesn’t want to leave Tony to seek for a better alternative. Steve pulls his fingers out, spits on them and slips them back inside Tony who is still thankfully boneless from his orgasm.

“Can you take more?” Steve asks and spreads his fingers wide, watching the pink of Tony’s entrance around his knuckles. His patience is growing thin at the lack of a reply because he knows Tony heard him.

“If I ask you to stop, would you do it?” Tony says after a few more seconds.

Steve can’t think or even conceptualize the idea, that Tony would deny him after he brought Tony off. “You won’t tell me ‘no’. You never did before.”

Steve hooks his arm under Tony’s good leg, lines himself up and bends over until their foreheads touched. Tony’s eyes are like pools of liquid blue and gazing into them at this distance, Steve finds himself lost in their depths.

Steve’s mouth seals over Tony’s again as he breaches Tony in a forward thrust. The entry is unintentionally rough, causing Tony’s muscles to contract around him in a fight against the foreign invasion. Steve caresses Tony’s flat stomach in apology and tries to stroke the tension out of him as they continue kissing.

Steve’s pace is unhurried, his cock impaling Tony inch by inch, the tightness of Tony’s channel not allowing him to go fast least he risks hurting them both. It seems like a long time to get his whole length inside Tony’s ass, the torturous pace and the burning friction of Tony’s channel sharpening the pleasure and drawing Steve nearer to the edge of orgasm.

Tony is not hard, which is quite normal from Steve’s experience with men in the past. His face is turned to one side, his knuckles white from bunching tightly in the sheets. Steve kisses Tony’s nose soothingly, carefully eases his cock nearly out and sinks back inside, keeping himself in check and maintaining the slow speed to get Tony accustomed to the thick girth and length.

Tony feels so hot and good inside. Steve can come like this and believe that he is making love to his Tony because this Tony is an almost perfect replacement.

When Steve’s hand inches down to touch Tony’s cock, he finds himself caught off-guard by a well-placed punched in the jaw. Stunted more from surprise than pain because Tony’s fist doesn’t carry enough weight, Steve let Tony roll them sideways as they separate, his cock slipping out of Tony’s hole, bouncing and spattering pre-come everywhere.

“If you want to fuck me, do it the way you’re supposed or don’t,” Tony hisses and clambers to a sitting position, undoubtedly calling it quit because of Steve’s niceness and consideration.

It is fucking ridiculous.

Steve doesn’t want to be angry at Tony but he is, and the fact that he can’t control his emotions only fuels the anger even more, frustration skittering up his spine and his heart pounding erratically in his chest as his hands flex from wanting to do something.

Tony is not the target of his anger, Steve reminds himself. If anything happens to Tony again, Steve will never be able to forgive himself.

Tony is watching Steve, his normal pale blue eyes so dark to be read but his body is a ball of tension, ready to fight back when Steve makes his move.

But Steve doesn’t want to fight him or force him.

“I have better things to do than to waste time with you.” The corner of Tony’s lips tilt up marginally, his arms relaxing in a false relaxed state and he casually shifts to get off the bed.

Steve doesn’t know that he’s moved until Tony is drawn to his strong chest once more. Immediately, Tony turns his body around and tries to slug Steve, possibly having predicted Steve’s action, knowing Steve better than he knows himself. Falling backward to dodge it, Steve catches Tony’s fist, yanks Tony down on top of him and twists it at the small of Tony’s back.

“Don’t make me hurt you.” Steve doesn’t intend it to be a threat but he must be fooling himself if he thinks it isn’t, his hand jarring Tony’s shoulder with a roll of his wrist to underline his point. “Because I can.”

“Then do it. Stop pretending to be nice to me!”

Tony is not doing anything to sooth the rage Steve is experiencing, his words fraying on Steve’s slipping control to be gentle to him. While Steve is still struggling to contain himself, Tony headbutts him. In response, Steve yanks one of Tony’s legs toward his chest and Tony’s yelp distantly reminds Steve that it is Tony’s disabled leg that Steve is holding.

Steve sucks in a breath to calm down. What he gets is a whit of Tony’s scent, a mixture of metal, grease and mechanical oil, which only renews the swirl of heat in his belly.

Steve inhales again, hitches Tony’s other leg forward with his thigh so that he straddles Steve’s hips, and grinds his cock against Tony’s bare ass, sliding wetly along the crack.

“You taunted me into killing you once. What do you want more of me, Tony? What can I do to make you mine? What can I do to make you stay? In the next five seconds, I’m going to put my dick in your ass. If you do as much as struggle, I’m going to dislocate your shoulder. Is that what you want? For me to hurt you, use you, and fuck you with disregard to your comfort?”

“If you can’t, just let me go.”

“Is not an option.”

Steve takes himself in hand and stuffs the head inside Tony’s ass. It pops inside with no resistance and causes a grunt from Tony. Tony buries his head into Steve’s chest and doesn’t tell him to stop.

Steve waits for three beats and releases Tony’s hand to sling an arm around Tony’s upper torso to hold him still and slams up into him, giving Tony no respite as he withdraws and repeats the motion with the same single-minded aim to take his own pleasure from Tony’s tight passage. A few moments longer of selfish fucking during which Tony is reduced to a sobbing mess, groaning haltingly into Steve’s neck before Tony cups Steve’s face and kisses him.

It is ironic how soft and sweet Tony’s kiss is. It seems as if he doesn’t want Steve to be nice to him.  The worse Steve treats him, the more pliant and agreeable he becomes. If Steve is not currently ball-deep inside Tony’s ass, he may be mortified.

In between the nightmares of Tony’s death, Steve has dreamt about having sex with Tony many times but it was never this rough. Or this perfect. Tony is a consuming heat around him, his weight solid on top of Steve, a comfortable presence to remind him that this is real and not some kind of ephemeral dream at night.

Steve spreads Tony wide to the point where Tony’s legs are quivering from the exertion. His hands trail along the smooth skin of Tony’s inner thighs to the fleshy mounds of Tony’s buttock which make excellent handholds for Steve to fuck him with abandonment, every slide in accompanied by a direct grind into Tony’s prostate.

Steve knows that his superhuman speed may be too much for Tony but he can’t stop. His cock shoves deep inside Tony who squeezes tight around him, and strokes Steve’s cock with his inner muscles when Steve pulls out, so good that it makes Steve take him again and again.

Tony has long since stopped kissing Steve to whimper against the skin of Steve’s neck, the prickling of his goatee on Steve’s skin adding a different sensation to the experience.

“Tell me you’re mine,” Steve commands.

“Yours.” Tony obeys with no hesitation, which only intensifies Steve’s strong need to possess him.

Shuddering at the sudden wave of want and need, Steve’s hips buck as he fucks Tony even harder, pleasure ricocheting over his entire body, his rhythm getting out of control as he gets closer to release.

Tony is starting to ramble, interrupted occasionally by the hard thrusts that rock his body upward. Through the haze of hungry desire, it takes Steve some time to understand Tony’s words. Tony is not begging Steve to let him come.  He is asking… pleading Steve not to hurt anyone and take it out on him instead.

Instead of dwelling on the words, Steve decides to focus on the feel of Tony around him and over him, and the cascading sounds of Tony’s gorgeous voice which magnifies the desire that pools in his gut.

His cock is branding Tony’s inside and his fingers are digging bruises into the meat of Tony’s ass but it is not enough. Steve wants to mark him where everyone will see. A light pull rips the top of Tony’s sweater open and his fingers touch a curious metal band instead of skin.

No sooner does Steve discover it, Tony props himself up on an elbow, and with the tri-colored collar around his neck, and his shining wet eyes, he is so pretty. “Would you promise, Captain?”

The engraved text on the collar reads, “Property of Steve Rogers,” and everything suddenly makes sense.

The other Steve almost lost Tony due to his rage during their final battle in New York and couldn’t bear to lose him again even if that meant isolating Tony from the outside world. Then Tony escaped and he grew mad to the point where he would kill to get Tony back. But Tony doesn’t belong to the other Steve anymore because Steve has found him and Steve gets to keep Tony for himself.

“Only if you promise to stay.”

“That… that is fair. But what if he comes to find me?”

“I’ll take care of him.”

Picking the end of the leash and looping it around Tony’s neck so that it binds them both, Steve sucks a hickey into Tony’s neck just above the collar, relishes in Tony’s broken moan and lets orgasm ripple through him.


End file.
